This Game We Play
by LarcSakurai
Summary: For just a prototype he was amazingly powerful, a perfect SOLDIER candidate. This game we play has only just begun. Done as a challenge, prompt was Hojo and Sephiroth


He had a promising future ahead of him, oh a very bright future indeed. This speciman was perfect, flawless, an absolute success, the greatest testimony to the months and years of toil and tedious experimentation leading up to his creation. The loss of the mother being was only a minor setback, she would have only gotten in the way trying to "protect" her baby from the harsh realities of science. In truth, Hojo would have been surprised if she had survived. The strain of the growing fetus within embedded with the Jenova cells was simply too great for her constitution to bear. No matter, he fumbled with the lock to the lab, he had that which he sought after. His experiment. That was all that mattered. A little loss of life along the way was but a necessity.

"Well," a slow smirk twisted the corners of thin lips, "I see you're just bouncing off the walls." The experiment regarded him coldly behind the thick safety glass deafening his vulgar insults and shielding the scientist from impending demise the speciman would have taken great pleasure in bestowing. How he would have loved to coil long fingers around the scrawny throat and just crush his precious windpipe while the older man buckled and writhed and gagged on his own blood. The very thought of such a glorious spectacle sent hungry shocks up Sephiroth's spine. He had developed beautifully over the years replacing innocence with a drop-dead breed of handsome. Though he were yet young his body had trimmed away into learn muscle crowned by silver tresses cascading down to obscure the glowing mako eyes. It was his eyes, perhaps, that Hojo admired most of all.

There were as ruthless and cold as their master.

A perfect candidate for SOLDIER.

"What are you planning on doing to me?" Sephiroth watched the other stride slowly towards the container with an all-knowing stare. Hojo didn't reply, simply pressing a sequence of buttons on the container's control panel. Sephiroth backed up against the glass, Hojo's gaze trailing slowly up the long legs to admire the taut, naked body enclosed in the glass. Sephiroth watched as thick air hissed out from vents overhead bringing the prototype to his knees. His head swam, light and dizzy as the intoxicating spray slowly seized control over his arms and legs until they relinquished all consious control. His mind struggled to drift away into frothy inebriation, everything blurring and melding into a giant mass of bright lights and garbled noise around him.

Once Hojo was assured the boy was thoroughly intoxicated the glass prison ascended. Sephiroth summoned the will to weakly claw the cool air assaulting his body causing rather unpleasant reactions Hojo seemed far too eager to behold. An indignant blush burned across the pale cheeks, bony fingers working their way up the tight belly roaming the smooth plains of his chest familiarizing himself with every inch. His skin crawled as the touches memorized contours but tesosterone was not to work in his favor today. Sharp nails teased the speciman's nipples calling the nubs of flesh to attention stimulated by the chilly air around him. Anger replaced disgust boiling deep within his chest feeding hot adrenaline. Dignity writhed as hips involunarily bucked into waiting hands.

No... No! No he was not about to let this happen!

He would not be this bastard's toy!

He would never allow himself to be dominated. His life and his body belonged to him! He would not lose the last shred of pride he had to this bastard's sick hands.

Suddenly the tables turned and Sephiroth tore at the smirking face, grinning as sweet vitality dripped forth from Hojo's face. The man's hand clapped to the gouges, stumbling back to smack a button on the wall until the prototype was upon him again biting and clawing. Pain shocked the scientist under endless punches and kicks from the beast of his own demented creation. He had gone too far, for a prototype Sephiroth was far too powerful. He had severely miscalculated the power of the Jenova cells. He couldn't move, could barely breathe or scream as the assault continued. Yet his demented consiousness was thrilled, ecstatic, rejoicing. Sephiroth was greater than he could have ever imagined possible. He was perfect.

"Son of a bitch. This game is in my hands now." Sephiroth picked him up by the collar, spitting in the man's bloody face before flinging the limp frame into a machine cackling as it lurched forward in testimony the spine was most likely snapped or at the very least severely damaged. That was bound to leave a mark, the speciman purred.

"On the contrary." Hojo smirked as the door flew open, Turks and SOLDIERS swarmign the room. He brushed himself off as best he could as they tore the struggling man away and flung him back into his cell. With Hojo's direction they trigged the sedation mechanism and the scientist only smiled as his pride and joy dozed back into submission. He had miscalculated the results but no matter. A few adjustments and Sephiroth would be completely obedient. His research would not be in vain. Once he was back on his feet the next round would begin.

This game was far from over.


End file.
